The Fallen Will Rise
by Solo's Falcon
Summary: Sometimes the price of redemption is too high. After Lucifer finds an unlikely visitor wandering around in the underworld, he will need a divine intervention to avoid a potential disastrous situation. Some angst, some humor, a hint at the latent sexual tension between Chloe and Lucifer, and some Trixie/Lucifer interactions that give their relationship that sweet, unique taste.


_Hello! This is my first ever "Lucifer" story. I hope you guys like it. I might write a longer one in the future, who knows? Comments are always welcome and, needless to say, highly encouraging (even the ones meant as constructive criticism). Thank you for reading! :-)_

* * *

The Fallen Will Rise

Strange as it was for a child, she had never been afraid of the dark. But it wasn't the darkness what made her heart thump wildly with fear. It was the shadows lurking all around her, observant, unseen…

"Mommy?"

Her voice trembled on a high note, its echo mocking the lack of response. Another shadow brushed past her and she yelped out a frightened sob that was swallowed by creepy whispers as she stumbled forward, lost amongst the cacophony of the disembodied voices.

A maze of grey corridors stretched ahead and wound around infinite pathways, while flakes of ash danced all around her, peppering the ground in dull silver. Desperate to find the way out, she pushed forward, taking tentative steps down one eerie alleyway after another. She didn't bother to wipe away the tears that streamed freely down her face. There was no point. Time seemed to slow down to a surreal sequence of seconds, fractured moments without a beginning or an end.

Unbearable loneliness began tearing at her heart, threatening to either rip it apart or crush it to a pulp. Despite the increasing warmth that enveloped her with every step, she felt an icy chill spreading down her spine and limbs.

The incessant whispers gradually morphed into frantic shrieks of pain and despair that bounced off the walls and pierced into her brain, maddening with their intensity, and forcing her to cover her ears and squeeze her eyes shut.

"Mommy!" she cried again, but this time her voice was swallowed by the sea of screams.

She broke into a run, her short legs carrying her down a narrow corridor that lead her into an equally narrow tunnel, ash swirling like a whirlwind all around her. Lost in the pitch black surroundings, she slowed down, using her hands to guide her way along one the coarse walls. She tripped and stumbled a couple of times, regaining her footing and pushing forward into the heat of the tunnel until she eventually discerned a faint light at the end of it. The red glow appeared weak at first, intensifying as she made her approach, growing hotter and hotter until she was no longer able to run her hands along the scorching wall.

Once she reached the opening, she saw it. A few grey steps paved the way to a massive rough iron gate just a few yards ahead of where she was standing. She stared at it, disconcerted and awestruck. Sweat was making her hair stick to her face, her bunny pajamas also soaked. Each side of the gate stretched out in front of her like an open embrace, beckoning her forward. Panic had her shivering from head to toe. She didn't know what that place was, but it scared her to the core.

Another shadow brushed against her back, and she swirled around. A tight yelp caught in her throat, followed by a small whimper.

There was nothing there, and yet…

"You don't belong here, child."

That voice…

She turned around and her heart swelled with joy and relief.

He was standing at the top of the stairway, looking down at her from the unholy threshold. A soft noise between a sob and a chuckle pushed past her lips.

His voice had been lower and darker than normal, but she knew it was _him_.

His face was obscured by shadows, but she knew it was _him_.

He appeared taller and broader, but she knew it was _him_.

She tried to run to him, but her legs wouldn't budge. Much as she tried to move, she seemed to be paralyzed on the spot, unable to rush up the stairs to where he stood towering over the place.

The shadow materialized behind her once more, this time grabbing her in an overbearing embrace and making her panic rise once again. At that very moment, a voice boomed over the cavernous terrain, and the shadow cowered away, scared and submissive. The warning had been spoken in a foreign language. A language no child had ever heard before. A language no child should ever hear.

"I wanna go home," she pleaded meekly.

He contemplated her, motionless for a long moment before slowly descending the stairway to where the frightened child stood. He knelt before her, eyes closed as he gently pulled her into his chest, his arms wrapping protectively around her trembling body. Only when he was sure she couldn't see into his soul did he open his eyes. Red orbs glowed hot in the semi-darkness. He whispered a soft reassurance into her ear and the girl relaxed against him, returning his embrace in kind.

He stood up with the girl cradled in his arms and began to walk away from the fiery gates. Something had gone terribly wrong. She wasn't supposed to be in that place. Why was she there? How could that have even happened?

The winding path looked perfectly familiar, and yet he knew all too well that, without the token, their exit would be forbidden. He bowed his head, pressing the tiny body closer to him and unwilling to admit defeat. Surely his father wouldn't sacrifice the soul of an innocent child in his sadistic family games.

 _Psychological torture, Dad? Really?_

He kept walking, undeterred, corridor after monochromatic corridor with one single purpose in mind: to get her out of his kingdom. If there was a way out, he was determined to find it.

After a long while, just when his hope was beginning to falter, a familiar weight began to gradually materialize at his back. A weight he hadn't felt for a really long time. At first, it seemed like a figment of his imagination but, slowly, the sensation became more and more real, his command over the divine limbs more palpable. The girl pulled her head away from his shoulder to look into his face, her eyes growing wide as she looked beyond it.

A pair of translucent wings spread majestically at his back, huge and breathtaking. In an instant, they stretched out, open and wide, spanning the entire width across the ample corridor. It was then when the world around them spun into a blur of colors and light swirling in rapid succession until there was nothing left but peaceful bliss…

* * *

Lucifer stirred awake at the sound of quiet rustling to find Chloe cleaning up the trail of popcorn, candy wrappers and plastic box with remnants of chocolate cake that plagued the small coffee table. A small weight at his side stopped him from sitting up on the couch and he frowned down at the tiny child who had curled up against him, her tiny arm draped loosely across his stomach. He repositioned her against one of the oversized cushions, careful not to wake her.

"Detective," he broke into that picture perfect smile worthy of the best Colgate commercial. Even at his groggiest, his impeccable charm shone through like a beam of light. "How was the office party?"

Chloe glared at him with reproach, trash bin in hand. "What part of 'no sweets at night' did you not understand?" she growled dumping the last of the wrappers inside the bin with disdain. Grabbing the remote from the armrest of the sofa, she proceeded to turn off the flat screen. "As for the choice in movie…"

"What's wrong with it?" he retorted defensively. "You said we could watch any children's movie."

"'Child's Play' is _not_ a children's movie!"

"But… there is a child in it," he said, eyebrows creasing.

She threw up her arms in exasperation. "A child who plays with a diabolical doll that goes around killing people is not…" Her jaw clenched, realizing the futility of her arguing with him. "You know what? Never mind!"

" _Diabolical_ ," he chuckled. "Oh, bollocks! That thing was more psychotic than anything else. The bloody movie was full of inaccuracies, anyway. Plus, the idea that I would ever consider crawling into the skin of a rather ugly talking doll is not only preposterous, but deeply insulting!"

Chloe's shoulders sagged in defeat. How it had ever occurred to her to ask him to stay with Trixie while she and Dan attended the Department's end of the year party was beyond her. How she had even made him agree to it was another mystery she didn't have the energy to dwell on at the moment either.

Letting out a long sigh, she pulled on her bun and let her hair fall loose as she kicked off her heels. All she wanted to do was get out of that darn low cut navy dress, take a shower and crawl into bed. If she had to deal with one more man ogling her like a piece of meat tonight…

"Stop that!" she berated catching his dark eyes roaming over her body in a blatant once over.

He straightened up on the couch and looked up at her, his smile turning wicked. "And pass up the opportunity to enjoy the rare view? I think not!" he chortled. "You should dress up more often, Detective. Or would that be considered dressing _down_? Either way," he purred in that overly sensual demeanor that characterized him. "Sin definitely suits you."

She was about to give him a piece of her mind when Trixie moaned something unintelligible and blinked slowly awake.

"Hi, baby!" Chloe crooned kneeling by the couch next to the child. "Time to go to bed, okay?"

Trixie nodded weakly and held onto her mother allowing herself to be picked up.

"Mommy, can you sleep with me tonight?"

Chloe sent Lucifer a withering stare.

 _Nice work, Supernanny!_

Lucifer grinned innocently and offered her a mild shrug denoting anything but guilt.

"It was only a movie," Chloe told her daughter, her voice soothing. "Nothing to be scared about, okay?"

Trixie waved feebly as she was carried away into her room. "Good night, Lucifer!"

The last thing Lucifer saw as the girl disappeared behind the doorway was her sleepy smile and her mouth forming a toothless ' _thank you'_ that hit him squarely in the gut.

He slumped back against the sofa, inexplicably exhausted—emotionally drained, for some odd reason. He had been trying to ignore the burning sensation of the scars on his back ever since he had woken up. A burning that was slowly dulling into a phantom pain he hadn't felt in millennia, now indistinct and ethereal.

Swallowing hard, hand absently running over his dark stubble, he rested his head against the back of the sofa. He let relief wash over him in warm waves and closed his eyes against the strange and unfamiliar prickling.

As it turned out, the tears that welled behind his eyelids were quite real.

 **THE END**.


End file.
